


Water Lace and White Eyes

by hedgerowhag



Series: Through the Forest Down to Your Grave [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Dark Fairy Tale Elements, Dubious Consent, Horror, M/M, Necrophilia, Non-Explicit Sex, Somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-06-08 05:44:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6841348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hedgerowhag/pseuds/hedgerowhag
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Though the brink of summer has it hold over the forest, the evening is dark and the sky is bloody. The birds still chatter and rustle through the foliage, completing the last notes of their song. The forest is plenty in game and yet Kylo’s hands are empty; since the dawns break he has been travelling through the forest with bow and quiver but not once has his aim been true.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Water Lace and White Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> if anyone is wondering, i hate myself

Though the brink of summer has it hold over the forest, the evening is dark and the sky is bloody. The birds still chatter and rustle through the foliage, completing the last notes of their song. The forest is plenty in game and yet Kylo’s hands are empty; since the dawns break he has been travelling through the forest with bow and quiver but not once has his aim been true.

Furious at his own faults, the hunter trudges through the dense thickets though long since has he lost his way. Amongst the tall black pines in the overgrown tangles of brambles and ferns he stalks, struggling as the thorns pull at his clothes and catch in his skin.

Hungered and weary the hunter halts by a tree, resting his back against its bark and closing his eyes as his head bows. Perhaps Kylo could sleep awhile, but he fears the cold of the night and the animals that hold their domain in the dark.

So Kylo pushes himself away from the tree and continues over the thick roots of the pines covered in thick cloaks of moss. Down a slope of a hill he walks, towards the flatter ground where water rises from the black soil and engulfs the shallow pits between the trees. Nothing swims in these waters but foul creatures that themselves are hunters. There are grey-backed snakes, but they only crawl out in the sun.

Kylo halts again, rubbing his eyes that threaten to close in the murk of the night. He is no longer certain that if he continues by this way that a path will eventually fall under his feet; all seems to be the same: hills and tall woods, filled with bogs of murky waters.

Over the mounds of moss he walks amidst the swamps, finding his way over the ground that threatens to sink. Catching himself on the trees he wavers through the flooded forest until—

A light?

As Kylo peers through the darkness of the trees, he is certain to see something glowing. Perhaps a torch?

Kylo trudges through the water, uncaring as it fills his boots and cloys them with black muck. Like a racket of swords and shields are his steps in the soundless forest, rousing the creatures slumbering in the thickets.

It is not a glow of fire at all, Kylo realises, but something altogether different: it appears to be a draped sprawl of lace lying over the water, but the most peculiar thing is that is glow by its own light.

With more care, closer Kylo creeps towards the strange glowing object on the water.

Only ten paces away he halts, peering from behind the tree. He gasps, clasping his hands over his mouth. Lying on the water below the lace is a figure in an ethereal glow dressed in white, water soaked clothes, the skin appearing to be of deathly pallor.

Stepping from his place of hiding, Kylo descends to the pool where the body lies. With careful steps, he wades into the water and finds himself sinking to his thighs. Yet closer he treads, catching the drifting hems of the lace on his fingers.

Standing above the figure, he gently pulls away the cover, revealing below the sleeping face of the man whose hair spills on the murk like the reflection of the bloodied sky. Kylo cannot help himself but draw his knuckles over the sharp contours of the sleeper’s face, tracing the pale cheeks and angular jaw, the lips that still seem to hold the bloom of life.

Down his hand reaches, over the column of the man’s neck where a ring of purple sits and then to the shoulders that are exposed by the slipping wide collar of the shirt. Kylo can see the skin through the soaked clinging cloth and it’s so pale that perhaps it could be mistaken for bone or some precious stone.

Lower and lower Kylo allows his hand to drift, pressing into the soft and supple skin of the man’s chest, over his ribs and down his flat stomach. He falters for only a moment before drifting his hand over a sharp hip to the slim thigh, enveloping it with his wide palm. The body is utterly lax – absent of life.

Kylo throws away the lingering shroud of lace and bows over the corpse’s face, pressing his thumb against the reddened lip, prying it open and exposing the white teeth until it appears as if lips are forming a gasp. His breath hitches at the image of unconscious ecstasy and cannot halt himself from enveloping the beautiful body in his arms and pressing and forceful kiss to the slack lips. They feel soft and Kylo bites, drawing the flesh between his teeth before pushing his tongue between the plumb lips.

While he holds the body aloft in the water with one arm, he allows his free hand to drift lower over the pale abdomen, pulling up the gown until the milky, white thighs are exposed. Not quite daring to breach further, Kylo grasps at the softness of the thighs, moulding the flesh into his hand, imagining the bruises that will never bloom. 

Halting, Kylo stares down at the unawares face of the sleeper. The man is so beautiful and yet so cold, he wishes that he could see the flush of excitement bloom across those cheeks, hear the breathing falter as moans escape through the red lips.

But Kylo knows that none of this he will ever have for the body is utterly still and cold. He curses who ever robbed this beautiful creature of life.

Kylo hoists the limp body in his arms and lifts it up from the water. Out of the pool he carries the sleeping man before laying him down on the moss. Indeed, like a sleeper he seems, so unreal in the glow that seeps from his skin. Kylo can’t bring himself to care of whatever sin his is due to commit as he throws aside his bow and quiver and rips away the white gown and presses down over the body, lavishing the pale collar bone with kisses, traveling down over the stomach to the thighs, tasting the cold skin that smells of the still water.

Kylo lifts those legs up, dragging the man closer, before biting the tender skin of the inner thighs, drawing the flat of his tongue downwards—

A gasp.

Kylo freezes, his hold rigid.

Has he been caught? Has his shame been witnessed?

Kylo draws away, looking up, but in the darkness he sees nothing. It must have just been mind, trying to guide him away from the temptation of the defilement.

He returns to his prize but before he can continue with his pleasure, he notices something is misplaced.

The eyes of the sleeper are not closed in the lax dream, but faltering open, the pale eyelashes flickering.

Unconsciously, Kylo’s grip on a milky thigh tightens and suddenly, the red lips open and a moan stutters out.

Wide eyed, Kylo watches as the sleeper lifts his arms, hiding his face behind them as the soft, tempting lips open again in a silent moan. No longer able to feel abashed for his actions, Kylo leans over the sweet creature, holding himself over him on his arms.

Away the pale arms fall and out peer green, dazed eyes as tender blush creeps over the skin.

Kylo lifts up his hand and brushes his knuckles over a cheek, pressing them against the sleeper’s lower lip. “What could you possibly be,” he murmurs before leaning down and capturing the lips in a kiss, biting at the red flesh, tugging it and slaving it with his tongue before pressing in beyond the teeth and feeling the warming tongue against his own.

Arms wrap around Kylo’s neck and he leans back, lifting the sleeper with him as he reclaims the open, soft thighs in his hands, hoisting them up to wrap around his hips, saddling the man into his lap. Down over the supple rear of the man he splays his hands, working it apart and slipping down his fingers as the man in his arms moans, the lips opening deliciously into the kiss.

“You were so soft, beautiful— How could I resist you?” Kylo whispers as he presses bites into the pale neck. His fingers have only just begun to circle around the man’s entrance, but already the moans build and when he slips them inside, pushing past the almost lax resistance, he feels a whimper become stifled against his neck.

As Kylo kisses the pale shoulders he works his fingers inside the man, pushing them in to the last knuckle and spreading them apart, smiling at the wanton moans that sound from the body clutched in his arms.

“I will take you,” says Kylo. “Whatever you are: a dream, a delusion, a reality.” He bites into the skin, “I will take you.”

The other seems to agree as he holds Kylo closer, wrapping his fingers around the wrist of Kylo’s hand that is pressed inside of him, pushing it in even further.

At last, Kylo pulls away and as he lowers his prize to the moss, the pale sleeper moans at the loss as he tries to catch hold of Kylo, but he escapes the hands. Quickly, Kylo devastates himself of the belt that holds his loose trousers and pushes them down but only just. He had felt himself ache from the moment he laid his hands down on the sleeper, and now it is almost painful.

When Kylo leans back over the pale figure, he allows himself a moment to admire the man. He is utterly naked and squirming under Kylo’s gaze, offering his vulnerable neck as he twists a hand in the locks of red hair. Though it is weakness, Kylo cannot scold himself for trapping the man in his arms and taking no hesitation in entering him, thrusting deep into the warm heat. He moans opened mouthed against the pale chest, restraining himself into control as he feels nails draw wounds over his back.

Kylo pulls back and with the roll of his hips he renters the welcoming clutch, holding the man aloft in his arms, trapped on his lap with no escape from the rising pace that forces gasps from the captured man. Holding onto his hips, Kylo helps the other rise and fall with his movements.

“Please.” A whimper no more than a breath. Pulling away, Kylo sees the tear filled eyes look up at him, hazed with lust. It is the first time Kylo has heard the man speak and it makes him halt and stare, wide eyed.

“Please,” the other whispers again, leaning forward to kiss Kylo and he obliges willingly.

“Anything,” replies Kylo in the brief moments their lips are apart. The man rocks against him, drawing Kylo’s length into him, grinding down with sounds of unquestionable pleasure. Kylo allows him to fall back onto the moss and takes hold of his legs, lifting them onto his shoulders.

As Kylo begins to fuck into him, the man clasps his hands over his own mouth, closing his eyes tightly as his body became taut from the gathering pleasure. Kylo pushes in with a languid pace, attempting to draw out the heat for as long as he is able though he knows it will not last.

The man below him is the first to fall apart – untouched. As he comes he arches his back with a silent cry that captures his lips, eyes hazy in his own glow. Falling down over him, Kylo soon follows, his breath stolen as he grinds down against the pale figure in his clutch, sapping out the last of his lust.

Lowering the legs that he held on his shoulders, Kylo rests his heated brow against the fragile collar bone, feeling gentle fingers run through his tangled hair, pulling at the knots. Raising himself up, Kylo presses a kiss to the underside of the man’s jaw, smiling at the tired huff of a laugh.

Still intertwined, the other pulls Kylo up until their lips are able to interlock and in the warm roll of laze they kiss, exploring each other’s mouths with tongues and biting teeth.

“Who are you?” asks Kylo with a kiss. “Please, tell me: Who are you?”

The man laughs – it’s a bitter sound, almost tearful. He takes hold of Kylo’s shoulders and gently pushes him away until they are able to look at each other in the hazy glow.

There is something not quite right, Kylo realises. The colour of the man’s skin is not quite as pure as he once thought it was, ever so slightly tainted with what seems like bruising – slightly green and blue, slithering up his veins and tender spaces of the inside of his elbows and the nook of his neck. The copper red hair is brighter, like the spill of rust and blood. And his eyes… they are paler than he remembered them to be moments ago.

The man leans up and kisses Kylo, with possession, control… and Kylo feels himself drift, the world clouding and falling into darkness.

 

 

Tender notes lift through the air as leaves whisper in the wind. Kylo opens his eyes. He is lying on his back amidst swaying pines on the floor of needles. The sky is bloody.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> awww heck people, go and have a look at [this amazing fanart](http://aw16st.tumblr.com/post/146183930998/tender-notes-lift-through-the-air-as-leaves) drawn by aw16st. im getting it tattooed on my face
> 
>  
> 
> i think i should explain myself and firstly say that i came up with the idea of this fic while writing the ending of ['Remember the Tale of the Ghost on the Shore'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6929731), which is kind of really similar but the two stories are in no way connected. secondly, it was inspired by the slavic mythology of vodyanova (vodyanoy) and rusalik (rusalka) - yes, they are different from mermaids. lastly, the title came from [this poem](http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/browse?contentId=33129) which has nothing to do with it whatsoever, i just liked the title
> 
> and that's it, please kill me


End file.
